


Some Time Around Midnight

by neverending_shenanigans



Series: What is and what should never be (Darcy Lewis Crossovers and Fusions) [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Darcy Lewis Crossover Week, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course Tony Stark takes his newly acquired scientist along for the big party. Of course Darcy has to tag along wherever Jane is going. And of course she is out of place among the rich, beautiful and wealthy. Thank god she has her iPod.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Time Around Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Posted before on tumblr.  
> Written for the 'Darcy Lewis Crossover Week' 2014
> 
> Setting: Post Thor 2 / Pre The Dark-Knight or at the very beginning of The Dark Knight.
> 
> The penthouse in which this takes place is the same penthouse Bruce lives in during ‘The Dark Knight’ movie and in which he hosts a party there. On that note, I’ve never written Bruce Wayne. Not sure if I managed to pull it off.

**Some Time Around Midnight**

 

_And it starts_   
_Sometime around midnight_   
_Or at least that's when you lose yourself_   
_For a minute or two_

[Some Time Around Midnight – The Airborne Toxic Event]

 

*

 

Darcy swears her life is just one big heap of ridiculous plot-twists. First, there is her name. Yeah, it was unique and sure, it suited her. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t curse her father whenever someone rose an eyebrow at her and asked the dreaded Jane-Austen-Question. ‘Like _Mr._ Darcy?’ Yes, exactly, she had the surname of one of her father’s favourite male characters of Jane Austen’s works as her very female first name. Curse him for his young, writerly self and his need to be creative and edgy. Or something.

Then there was the plot twist of her tomboyish teenage-self who kind of got into puberty later than others. Not that it spared her of the self-confidence issues when her boobs had started swelling and had turned into the first, and sometimes only, thing people noticed about her. She had always hoped that she would at one point in her life become female and gracious and sexy. Leave it her to mother nature to overdo it, though, and give her curves that gave her back pain, reduced her to walking boobs for most guys and made it pretty damn hard to get comfortable bras that didn’t look hideous and didn’t eat away all her hard earned money. While other college kids had taken on side-jobs to save up money for a car of fancy things like that, she had been forced to spent a lot of it on her clothing.

How she had managed to juggle her job as a waitress and college and the college life at all had been mostly a small wonder to her. It had been a very chaotic time of her life. Which, of cause, had let to the next weird plot-twist : the internship with Jane Foster. An astrophysicist. She had applied too late for many internships and had pretty much given up all hope to get any position at all, when she had gotten the e-mail that Dr. Foster would be willing to take her, a poli-sci major, on as an unpaid intern. Of cause, it had turned out that Dr. Foster had not had much of a choice, as she herself had opened her research for interns way too late and had therefore only had _one_ person to apply. Namely – her, Darcy Lewis. But still. It was another one of those things that don’t happen to people in real life.

But Dr. Foster was a cool gall, and Darcy had genuinely liked Puente Antigue, the place in the middle of nowhere. Leave it to fate to mess it up, though, and send fucking _alien-gods_ after them. After she had tased _Thor_ and had survived a _firebreathing giant-alien-robot_ she had honestly thought nothing in life could shock her anymore. The weird Men in Black thing had not really been able to shake her at all. Weird secret governments had nothing on Thor’s fine body and his mighty warrior hammer (not even an euphemism, as she had only seen one of his hammers).

She had finished her degree and happily returned to Dr. Foster as soon as she could. Meeting gods was an experience that bonded people together for life. So, yeah, she had been pretty willing to follow Jane to Norway and then to England. Leave it to Jane, though, to use science to get infected with a virus-power and send _alien-dark-elves_ after them. And rip holes in space and time. And have them _fight_ against the big bad again. She was pretty sure that making out with cute-but-normal british guy Ian had been her way of coping.

So. When one of the richest men on earth had offered Jane a position with Stark Industries, as the secret government had started to crumble? Darcy had not even been really surprised. It was just her kind of plot-twist, right? She had also not really thought twice before urging Jane to simply take the position. Not that Jane had needed too much urging. Stark was willing to spend a ridiculous amount of money on her, funding her research without making her his slave for life. Jane was in science-heaving just thinking about what shiny new machines she could buy from all the money. Relocating to New York had happened pretty much in the blink of an eye.

And yet. It really had been a bit unsettling how easily she had been able to get used to the genius-yet-weird person that was Tony Stark. He had been truly charming to them, and he had seemed to genuinely enjoy the fact that Darcy was able to keep up with his snark, his popculture-refernces and his attention-craving stunts.

She had gotten so used to him and his weird billionaire-antics that she had, in fact, not wondered a whole lot about it when he had stormed into Jane’s lab a couple of days demanded that she and Jane be his company to a party. Of course, Jane had declined politely at first and with a bit more force later, but when he had promised that there would be some genius scientist at the party (whose name Darcy had conveniently forgotten again already) whose brain she had wanted to pick for a while now… well. Jane had agreed to it, and where Jane went, Darcy went, too.

 

She had only come to regret her carefree agreement a bit yesterday, when she had met Pepper Potts to hand her the bill for yet another ridiculous science-thing Jane needed and had asked her why she wasn’t the company for Tony. Pepper had rolled her eyes a bit, with a wry smile, and told her that she had made a promise to herself years go to never go to a party that _that man_ hosted ever again.

And only then had she found out that _that man_ aka the host of the evening was _Bruce freaking Wayne,_ whose name Darcy remembered from Poli-Sci well enough. Apparently, Gotham Cities economics depended a great deal on Wayne Enterprises. The companies history had been part of one of her lectures, analysing the interesting rise and fall and rebirth of the company tied strongly to some political campaigns. More importantly, the major share holder and actual heir to the company was yet another filthy rich guy with a liking for grand parties and known for frolicking around.

And, according to Pepper, he, Tony and some guy named Luthor had a metaphorical “pissing contest” (Darcy's words, not Peppers) going on, in which they came together on a yearly occasion – disguised as a charity gala - to compare who had the bigger, better, faster, louder _everything._

And, well. As Tony’s playboy years lay behind him now he had seemingly decided that he would trump up in this years contest in bringing one of the most brilliant woman he had employed. Darcy was pretty much just to tag along.

So she had made plans to get the most out of it. Tony had sponsored their get-up (no doubt because he had to go up against whatever top-model those other billionaires at those parties would bring) and Darcy had used the free pass to shop shamelessly on net-a-porter for dresses, shoes and clutches for Jane and herself and found two very perfect and somewhat matching dresses of “Temperly London”. Jane had accepted it with a grimace, but had seemed to be considerably less sulky about having to get out of her flannel shirt and jeans after she had seen herself in the mirror earlier tonight.

 

Darcy inwardly complimented herself on her choice. The site had described it as “dramatic yet elegant”, and that was certainly true. The cream colour of the dress was nice and complimented Jane’s impeccable skin as did the low waist complimented her lean figure. And the red chiffon appliqués in a floral pattern of the tulle on top of it made Jane look like a graceful goddess of science, instead of a hobo-scientist who only found her way into the shower once a week.

Like a proud mother hen Darcy had helped Jane pin up her hair and put on some nice, simple golden jewellery – again, sponsored by Tony. She had been so proud of how Jane looked that she had only paused to consider how good she looked herself when Tony had given her a once over before ushering the two of them into his private jet.

Her own dress was made in a very similar style to Jane’s actually, totally on purpose. Only that her tulle was a bit darker and less frilly, the dress itself was a bit more straight. And the black ribbon pattern stitched on the tulle part of it was, apparently, according to the website, “stained glass ironwork” instead of beautiful flowers. The highlight though was the slit skirt at the back. It wasn’t too high, but it certainly showed off her black high heels. She really did feel sexy and she thanked Tony his once over with a wink.

 

Well. The feeling had lasted until she had entered the penthouse in which the party was being held. Darcy had been unable to decide for a moment if she was more blinded by the gold light coming from all corners of the room, reflected from the marble floor, or if she was blinded by the mass of people in expensive robes. Some faces she even recognized. She was pretty sure she had seen _Hilary Clinton_ at the buffet table.

Tony had dragged her and Jane through the room to introduce them a bunch of people and then dragged them one to someone named Lucius Fox. He had been the first guy on that party who had not seemed entirely snobbish to Darcy, and who had actually engaged in a very intelligent conversation on her research with Jane. Darcy had used the chance to slip away – Jane was in good company, and Tony had been distracted by some woman who had greeted him very enthusiastically – and sat down at the bar, ordering some cocktail.

 

And this is where she sat now, cocktail in hand, her back turned to the bar, eying the crowd while sucking on her straw, completely convinced that she was the most out-of-place person in the room. Life couldn’t throw any new plot-twists at this intern-gone-assistant. Nope. She wondered why no-one had come up to her and asked her to see her invitation yet – this was the level of out of place she felt.

With a resigned sigh she fished her new iPod from her clutch. Might as well make her stand out even more, right? She wouldn’t fool anybody anyway. She had never seen half of the things on the buffet table and she couldn’t dance if her life depended on it. If listening to her iPod while sitting at the bar and waiting for this to be over was able to make her stand out even more, it would really surprise her.

Well, at least the waiter carrying around snacks seemed to eye her ear-plugs with a bit of surprise. She shot him a grin as she raised the volume loud enough to overlay the orchestra – a good sign that this was not her kind of party – but not loud enough to disturb the people in her immediate surroundings. Hopefully.

She closed her eyes as she switched her iPod to shuffle and just let it throw any song at her, willing the music to carry her mind away from the party and willing the time to go by quicker. At one point she had to open her eyes when a hand touched her arm, though. A man stood before her, hands tucked into the pocket of some really fancy pants to his equally fancy suit. He seemed amused.

She tugged out her earplugs, trying to return his smile. “Yeah, how can I help you?” Holy crap, this man was good looking. And she had seen her fair share of good looking people eversince Jane worked for Stark.

He leaned forward a bit. “Please excuse my interruption, but I couldn’t help but feel curious. You don’t seem to enjoy this party very much?”

She had half a mind to be polite and laugh it off, but that has never been her routine. She opted for being honest and raised her half-emptied cocktail. “Ah, well. Too fancy for me. The chandelier is worth more than my whole belongings. But I’m not complaining. Free booze.” Way to go, Darcy, though. Of cause she had just blabbered out what she thought. Classy.

The man didn’t seem to mind, though, he just laughed. “Indeed. You should try the margaritas. Very free and very good.” At this, he made a gesture at the bar man, who seemingly already know what was up an got to work straight away.

Darcy eyed the guy in his suit, who was observing her way too keenly for it to be casual. Mid to end thirties, she’d guess. Was he a politician? Upperclass? Or the toy-boy to one of the old rich ladies she’s seen everywhere? Was he one of Tony’s business companions? “And you? You must be pretty bored yourself if the fact that I am a bit bored made you come over here.” And made him willing to expose himself to her incredible wit.

He raised his shoulder in one smooth shrug, his eyes apparently casually scanning the room. “I can’t deny that. Parties like these are mostly the same game of rich, famous and pretty to handing out their business cards. If you’ve seen one you’ve seen all of them.” And then he smiled down at her again. “I’m sure, though, that you are a novum. Most people wouldn’t openly admitting how boring these parties are and wouldn’t turn to their iPod for amusement.”

Darcy couldn’t hold back her pretty unladylike snort. Oh, he had no idea. He would probably stop wasting his time on a petty freshly-out-of-college-assistant like her the second he found out about how unimportant and how un-fancy she was. Because no matter what exactly he was, his whole get up and his posture and his very self-assued and (-yes, no use in denying that-) sexy grin screamed ‘money’ and ‘upperclass’. “Yeah, well. What can I say? I’m really not most people.”

He grinned, as the barman now brought two margaritas their way, and he simply _handed_ her one and smoothly took her other half-empty glass from her hand. The fact that she let him said something about how weird her knees felt at his grin. “Clearly you aren’t.”

Hopefully she wasn’t blushing. Not that her sudden burst of ramblings wouldn’t have given her away to anyone who knew her. “Nothing against most people, of cause. Most people are awesome, they’re just not very much ‘me’. Not that being ‘me’ is always a good thing, I’ve noticed. Karma has it’s way of screwing with me.” And wow, good on there, Darcy. She desperately looked through the room, trying to make herself shut up and avoid his gaze. She could really see that he was struggling not to laugh right now. “Now that I think of it, if most people were like me, the world would be a pretty… ah, well. Half-awesome and half-scarry place. I haven’t decided yet if I’m more the superhero or supervillian type, I have such great potential. As do all Poli-Sci-People, I’ll have you know. But I can say that if most people were like me, fancy parties like these would probably drop out of existence. Instead there would be… big giant movie nights, probably. With at least a monthly rerun of Pulp Fiction.”

If he really was one of Tony’s associates, someone working with Stark Industries in anyway, and word of this ever got out? She would blame it all on the alcohol. When she looked back at him, to see how much damage her insane ramblings had done, he was still smiling. Though one eyebrow was raised, and he mimicked the movement with his hand holding the margarita, raising it just a bit in her direction. “To big giant movie nights, then.” Darcy raised her glass, too, and then drank from it.

Oh, yes. She could see why he recommended the thing. She eyed her glass, and then looked in the direction of the barman. Who was, weirdly enough, constantly glancing in their direction. Was he checking out the hot dude to her left? Couldn’t blame him. She raised her glas to him, too, and used the other hand to give him thumbs up and a bright smile. Then she looked at her company. “Dude, thanks. This really is awesome.”

His glass was almost empty, and he chuckled. “You’re welcome….?”

It took her a moment to register how he trailed the end of his sentence, and how he intoned it like a question. Oh. She thrust out her free hand to him. “Ah, sorry. Darcy. Pleasure to meet you.”

He took her hand, but instead of shaking – to her absolute horror – he brought it up to his lips and _freaking kissed her knuckles._ And he managed to do it so smoothly, yet casually, that she really wasn’t sure if it was meant as a mockery of the gesture or if he was being serious. Not even Captain America kissed hands anymore… from what she’d heard.

She simply stared, as he let go of her hand again. “Bruce, and the pleasure is _certainly_ all mine. You’re saving me from a very dreadful evening.”

Darcy said the only thing that came to her pretty unintelligible mind that only came up with error messages right now. “Huh.” She was so blushing right now, wasn’t she?

 

Bruce (what are the odds of meeting yet another good looking Bruce? Had Tony a thing for people named Bruce?) still looked at her, and inwardly she decided that it should be a crime to stare into people’s souls like this. “I wonder. How severely would you be missed if I might sweep you away for a bit?”

Darcy looked through the room, scanning the crowd for the only to people she knew. She couldn’t see Tony anywhere, but she saw Jane talking to a guy. In tweed. They were chatting happily, and Darcy was kind of sure that someone with such a horrible fashion sense was most likely a scientist. And there was the fact that she was fairly sure that she had seen his face on the back of one of Jane’s science books. So – Jane was happy and still taken care off. She looked back at Bruce. “I would say there’s a fifty percent chance that my absence wouldn’t be noticed.”

In response, he offered her his free hand. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. And you?”

Darcy put her margarita way and put her iPod back into her clutch. With her right hand she grabbed her glas, with her left hand she put the clutch under her right arm and then took his left hand and tried to smoothly glide down from the barstool. “Yeah, sure. Where are we going, though?”

He lifted the hand with the glass and pointed at a black door she hadn’t even noticed being there before. “A lift to different penthouse. I happen to know the guy who hosts this party and lives here, and he has a movie collection that you might enjoy. There’s even a special cut of Pulp Fiction that has never been officially released.”

Darcy gasped, staring at the guy with unbelieving eyes. Maybe a more sensible part of her would have had reservations at sneaking away from a party with a guy she really didn’t know to inspect the movie collection of yet another guy she didn’t know at all. But that part of her brain was coincidentally also occupied being a fan girl over that movie. “No way. I _have_ to see that. Someone give the man an award for having good taste!”

 

She let go of Bruce’s hand and marched of towards the door, forgetting the elegant shuffling or even the good opportunity to walk slowly and sway her hips while he was following. Hell, for a moment she didn’t even care if he was following, she wanted to see that movie collection. Before she could reach the elevator, though, someone called out her name to her left, and she paused, her head snapping in the direction immediately.

Of course it was Tony, coming her way with a bottle of champagne, grinning. Bruce paused to, again at her left and she shot an apologetic shrug and smile at his direction before Tony reached them, waving the bottle. “Hey Buffy, I found some champagne with _gold glitter_ for you. Told you they’d have it.”

Darcy grimaced a bit at the nickname. Ever since he had caught her in her Slayer-pyjamas asleep on a cough in Jane’s lab one early morning he just wouldn’t let it go. And they had been a fan article of the band, not the show – and they had not even been hers but some leftover stole thing from her college roomie. But, oh well. She figured there could be worse things to be called.

 

For now she let it go, and just took the bottle from him as he reached her, and – indeed, there was gold glitter. “Holy shit, Iron Maiden. You were right.”

He casually sneaked an arm around her waist, still grinning, poking her sides. She was pretty sure that there was the odour of whiskey around him. “Which means that you will get a pair of Iron Man pyjamas and will have to wear them. Pictures or it never happened.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Then she remembered Bruce, and looked at him, offering him the bottle. “See? Fancy parties. Not my world.”

Bruce smiled, but it was a different smile from before. She could swear that his eyes darted between her and Tony. She looked at Tony, who was giving Bruce a weird eye, too. “So, err, do you two know each other? Tony, this is Bruce, who pointed me in the direction of awesome margaritas; Bruce this is Tony, the man with the iron ego?”

Tony let go of her waist, snorting. “Yeah, sure I know the guy. Alfred told me that you had no intention of joining the gala till the charity part of the evening was due. What changed your mind?” He held out his hand as he said it, and Bruce took it and shook it as well, but Darcy couldn’t fight the weird feeling that there was tension between them.

“Well, apparently it is bad form to stay away from your own party. I just keep forgetting that and Alfred makes sure to remind me very patiently. Repeatedly.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, I know that one from Pepper. She even has my AI constantly remind me. I think she hired my PA only based on their ability to be annoying.”

Bruce’s answer was a snort. “Well, Lucius and Alfred do show troubling signs of cooperation sometimes, when it is about something I should or should not do, according to them.”

Darcy stood there, and now she was the one eyeing the both of them. And then, it kind of clicked what Bruce had said.

 

It broke out of her, before Tony could reply again. “Oh, holy mother of Thor. This is _your_ Party and you’re the other pissing contest dude!”

To this, they each raised an eyebrow, and Tony even laughed.

“Pissing contest?” Bruce enquired with a polite tone, Tony was not even half as polite.

He sounded amused and bewildered at the same time. “What are you talking about Lewis? It sounds fun, let me in?”

Darcy coughed, trying not to look at Bruce too long. Bruce. Bruce _Wayne._ Whose party she had offended multiple times this evening. Yeah, wonderful, Karma. Yet another surprising Plot Twist thrown at her. “It’s, err. What I labelled this rivalry thing you billionaire guys have going on at these galas. You two and some Luthor guy. I think you introduced him earlier, I just really wasn’t listening. You know, the constantly comparing thing? Who has more cars, who gets nagged at more by his assistants?”

The amusement from before returned to Bruce’s face and Tony crossed his arms over his chest, pressing one hand to his heart in a dramatic gesture. “I should be seriously offended, Lewis. Or I should fire you. Tell Pepper that I fired you and rehired you under a new contract when we get back, and that the new contract strictly forbids you to call this a pissing contest.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at that. Still, strictly avoided Bruce’s soul-searching-look that she was pretty sure was directed at her. “You can’t fire me. I’m working for your astrophysicist, but not for you. We’ve been over that. I’m Jane’s assistant. Jane hired me.”

Tony waved it off. “Details, details. Back to topic – you let yourself hand alcohol from strangers? You didn’t even know who he was? Oh, this is priceless. Heard that, Dracula? She had no clue who you were.”

Darcy glanced at Bruce, briefly. Which was a grave mistake, her cheeks started burning again. She wondered why Tony called him Dracula. “Hey, I don’t memorize rich people’s faces. Not that there’s anything wrong with rich people or their faces. You guys proof the opposite, really, my congratulations on your wonderful genetics. But that’s just so not my league. Not my job. I’m just here to make sure that Jane doesn’t drink too much and is happily occupied with ‘science’.”

Bruce, now, spoke up. Which forced Darcy to look at him again. He was smiling. “No, Tony here is right. You shouldn’t have let me get you a drink without even knowing who I was. It’s very responsible of him to point that out.”

Tony faked a dramatic shudder. “Me, responsible? Low blow, Bruce-number-two. Things like these are the reason why Banner is number one.” The last part he muttered while looking at Darcy.

Darcy could only glance in his direction, before her eyes snapped back to Bruce and his really intense look again. “You know, I think I would like to rectify that. We should certainly get to know each other, Darcy, so the mistake won’t happen again at the future. Maybe at a ‘big giant movie night’?”

Darcy tried very hard not to let her mouth hang open too much. Tony made a gagging noise, as she found access to her brain again and could make her head move to a weak nod and managed a smile. “If you can get the owner of that movie collection you mentioned before to lend you that special version of Pulp Fiction I’m game.”

She ignored Tony’s complaint to her right. “No, absolutely not! Buffy, I will get Pepper to change your contract again and forbid you from watching Pulp Fiction! Or I’ll really fire you this time. You can’t fraternize with the enemy! Pissing contest, remember?”

Bruce grinned at Tony. “Well, you might want to reconsider. Darcy here is not like most people, and if you fire her I might just use the opportunity to hire her. You kept telling me how useful a charming and good looking PA can be, didn’t you? And Darcy here is refreshingly … honest.”

Focus, Darcy, Focus. You can’t blush. It looks stupid on you. Don’t blush. She didn’t blush. She laughed out loud, though. “Well, maybe you would like to reconsider that one. I really can be entitled to my own fair share of nagging. And I’ve been told that I can be seriously annoying.”

Bruce’s eyes glinted, and Darcy wasn’t sure if the alcohol was getting to her at last of if it was the general situation that was getting to her head. “I think I would be able to put up with that.”

At that, Tony put an Arm around Darcy’s shoulder again, taking the champagne from her and taking a big gulp from it. “You’re not getting Buffy. Go to hell, Bruce. Or, you know, just go somewhere else. This is your party, don’t you have places to be?”

Bruce looked through the room, and his eyes paused at the clock. It was close to midnight. A frown followed. “It seems so. The charity countdown starts in a moment.”

He looked at Darcy again, and then he just leaned forward, and kissed her cheek. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Darcy. I’ll hold you to that Big Giant Movie Night. Say goodbye before you leave, or leave your number with Alfred.”

Darcy stood frozen solid and she was pretty sure her internal organs had spontaneously combusted. She raised a hand in a weak wave as he turned and left.

Only as Tony poked her in the site did she move again. With a yelp and a glare at Tony. Who was smugly amused. “And here I thought you’d find the party to be boring. Already snagged the number of the most eligible bachelor on that party that isn’t me – not that I’m a bachelor, or anything, but I’m very eligible. Promise me, though. You can’t defect. Just think how broken hearted Thor would be. Talking about Thor. Let’s go looking for Jane.” Darcy let herself be tagged along. Her eyes were trailing after Bruce, though. She would certainly not forget this night. Holy crap.

 

*

 

 

 

**Further Reading:**

[Seeing you again, by kag20 on ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/692861/chapters/1273952)

(It’s one chapter and unfinished, rolling with the idea that Darcy is Commisioner Gordon’s daughter. Maybe I’m blind, but this is the only piece I found on the two of them There are some graphics and even a video out there, but fanfictions? It’s scarce.)

 

**Dresses:**

Because I’ve heard that people care about that and I don’t have a polyvore.

[Jane’s Dress](http://www.net-a-porter.com/intl/product/514254?cm_mmc=LinkshareUK-_-Hy3bqNL2jtQ-_-Custom-_-LinkBuilder&siteID=Hy3bqNL2jtQ-n1HLwdCYb._VvRbB21fzqg):

[Darcy’s Dress](http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/444284):

 


End file.
